Blackened Vow
by Ten-Faced
Summary: He's changed. He's no longer the pure man of light, and his once-brightness is now dark. That means nothing to Ephenia. He is still someone she trusts with all her heart, someone who keeps his promises of power and a better world to her. He is still her friend.


Ephenia remembers a time when the forest hummed a song of contentment, when the leaves swayed in the arms of the wind, dancing to the silver tunes from the heavens. Her fairies laughed, the woods were pure and she was happy.

How long has it been since the pure tune in the air first began to twist out of harmony and symphony? When did the orchestra of the birds and the fairies turn and groan in torrents of fear and confusion instead of singing the sound of the starlight aria, the requiem of night, the windy lullaby, the forest's prelude?

In terms of time she does not know when – time is an immortal mistress who closes her eyes and spends all of eternity in a dream, loving everything about this world, even with all its faults.

Ephenia is not one to close eyes to faults. She is a queen, and a queen seeks perfection for her people. She sees the flaws in the hymn of nature's balance and searches to eradicate the cause, the threat to fairies.

In terms of time she does not know when – but she does know the cause that tainted her forest and brought the erroneous sound of discontent and misery to her world's peaceful cacophony and she would want nothing else than to eradicate the filth.

The wrong sounds, the hideous tunes and the twisted instruments are those that are called humans. They are disgusting, wicked creatures who turn deaf ears to the voice of nature and walk the path of unnatural, immoral methods to bring pleasure, taking value in material objects.

She would judge them all to be the same, but she knows better. There is one redeeming member of that filthy race, one who agrees with her thoughts and truly hears the great calling song of the nature with his heart. He is a forgiving balance to the rest of his hideous, decadent kind, he is a flower of light in the rotting muddy swamp the rest of humanity is.

He is the White Mage, and he has promised her a better future for the voice of nature.

So she waits and waits and never once lets her beliefs in his promise, in him falter. He is the human who has first touched her heart, shown that a member of the profligate short-lived race was capable of impressing her and sided with fairy-kind against his own.

Her wait ends when the song of the forest falls silent, in awe and in shock. There is a dark aura in her home, one that is impossibly familiar.

She rises from her seat, lips parted in wonder and in curiosity. It cannot be, but it is.

"Ephenia."

It is. He is. It is he.

"White Mage," she calls his title, but it does not seem to fit him as it used to, not anymore. He carries the powerful aura of darkness, a deep, mysterious shadow that is as dark as he was once bright.

Such a change, such a dramatic difference. He was a star, so bright in the darkness of the world, but he's fallen and now he is the blackest of the darkness.

But it is still he, the only human she has fully trusted, so all she can say to him is "You've returned."

"I have."

His voice has changed. Once it filled her with serenity, but now it roots her to the spot with coldness. Her wings slow their flutter and her feet touch the ground.

This isn't him. This wears his shape and retains his memories but this is not the man she used to know.

No, that is ridiculous. Of course it is he – a change in power does not change his self, his brilliant mind, his wisdom beyond his years. He has found the answer to the question, the power that he deserved.

"What brings you to the home of the fairies, dear friend?" she asks, clasping her hands above her heart, feeling the wild beats fluttering madly like a butterfly's wings do when the beautiful insect is trying to flee and she takes in a deep breath to calm herself. Friend, remember, friend.

His smile is a cold copy of his former one, a stretch of pale lips and lacking the reassurance, the understanding it used to carry. Nonetheless, it is familiar and fills her mind with comfort at the sight. "I've come to fulfil my promise to you."

"Promise," she repeats, for those words ignite the long-forgotten joy within her heart. Oh, she's longed for him to return and utter those words to her ever since he left on his search for the answer, ever since he vowed to come back with more power and create perfection.

He holds out his hand. "Join me, Ephenia," he whispers.

She takes it without a second thought.

* * *

Because of the new info Nexon's tossed at us. Ephenia's pretty both before and after taint.

So, the BM was called the White Mage before (wow, the creativity.)

Well, my fan name for him was Lucifer, so since he still doesn't have a name, I guess I can continue to call him that?


End file.
